Month: April 2020

Pandemania

There are fewer introductions
In plague years,
Hands held back, jocularity
No longer bellicose,
Even among men.
Breathing’s generally wary,
Labored, as they say, when
The end is at hand.
But this is the everyday intake
Of   the imperceptible life force,
Willed now, slow —
Well, just cautious
In inhabited air.
As for ongoing dialogue,
No longer an exuberant plosive
To make a point,
But a new squirreling of air space,
A new sense of  boundary.
Genghis Khan said the hand
Is the first thing one man gives
To another. Not in this war.
A gesture of  limited distance
Now suffices, a nod,
A minor smile or a hand
Slightly raised,
Not in search of   its counterpart,
Just a warning within
The acknowledgment to stand back.
Each beautiful stranger a barbarian
Breathing on the other side of the gate.

– By Daniel Halpern

My choir, the Mission Peak Chamber Singers, opened our virtual May concert up to people all over the world. We’d already planned it, on the topic of homelessness… a topic which is even more brutally timely than ever, as we ponder the ludicrousness of a shelter-in-place order when one’s life does not include the having of…shelter.

Some of our singers joined us at 6 a.m. from Jerusalem. Many of us joined at 8 pm from the Western states, while others straggled in from the East Coast at midnight. It was… not the same as sitting in a room full of people. Many of us felt really weird about being on screen a full hour and a half. Some of us looked exhausted – at the beginning – or the end – of a busy, long day. We got lost. We hit bad notes, and were utterly confused. It was what we had, though, and we are determined to make it work. (You’re welcome to join us.)

zoom: choir rehearsal

staring down a screen
we, joined by untold strangers
sing into the dark

So many of my friends are sharing recipes and so many people are cooking just now. I’m happy to simply eat fresh fruit and dream of being allowed to go to the Farmer’s Market again someday… I’m grateful that gardens are still “essential services.”

late night

so few cars passing
The stars shine with clarity
Brightening silence

Sky watching the other night, we were astonished to see… Venus. I’ve never seen it so clear that the curve of the planet was visible with the naked eye – just that small difference in commutes and traffic, and already the world changes.

“How do you deal with social distance depression?” someone asked. My suggestion? Go outside. Soak up the sun. Wait.

silent

bereft of words, wait
listen for the world’s heartbeat
and breathe calm in sync